


Snotlout's Rules of the Apocalypse

by harrypanther, vala411



Series: The Wit and Wisdom of Snotlout Gary Jorgensen [4]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragons exist in modern times, F/M, Humour, Mild Violence/Blood, Snotlout's Rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27424894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrypanther/pseuds/harrypanther, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vala411/pseuds/vala411
Summary: SUMMARY: ZOMBIE/APOCALYPSE/HUMOUR AU. Berk’s most misunderstood dragon rider shares his essential tips on surviving the end of the world!Disclaimer: We don’t own How To Train Your Dragon. Rights remain with Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks. We don’t own any zombies either (not for lack of trying-I’m still suspicious about that porg…).No dragons, donkeys, pinecones or dragon riders were hurt in the making of this fiction.
Relationships: Dagur the Deranged/Mala, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Astrid Hofferson
Series: The Wit and Wisdom of Snotlout Gary Jorgensen [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997134
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Snotlout's Rules of the Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> Harry’s A/N: 2020. The year of natural disasters, the global plague and general miserableness all round. So obviously thoughts turn to the Zombie Apocalypse. And who better to guide you through than Snotlout Gary Jorgensen, Berk’s most singed and definitely most misunderstood dragon rider? 
> 
> Just two authors, a porg, some computers and possibly alcohol… What could go wrong?
> 
> Vala’s AN: There was definitely alcohol involved-don’t let Harry’s ‘possibly’ fool you. *clinks glasses* CHEERS! (Porg has fainted on the couch because he is a total lightweight)

  1. **Never ever set Zombies on fire**



“Explain to me again how this happened?” Stoick asked as he crossed his arms and glared down at the soot-covered and singed Snotlout. Several parts of him were still smoking and the devastation left in his path was….. Staggering.

“Well…..” Snotlout gulped. “You see…..”

“I’m waiting,” Stoick stated as he was tapping a finger against his arm while his eyes narrowed.

“There were zombies,” Snotlout muttered.

“Of course there were zombies. We are in a zombie apocalypse.” Stoick then stated. “That does not explain how fire was set to nearly half this forest! Thor-damnit Snotlout how did zombies cause a forest fire?!”

“Because they were on fire?” Snotlout answered lamely and took a step back at the glare he got from the former Chief-though he spent most of the time acting like he still was, rather than having handed the mantle to his son as soon as the zombies appeared on Berk. “In my defense it was the twins fault…… mostly….”

“The twins were on a scouting mission with Eret! How is this their fault?!”

“Well it was their flamethrower that did the deed! How was I supposed to know it would produce that large a flame?!”

“The twins are not allowed to have incendiary devices anymo-wait nevermind. I’ll deal with them later. Just tell me what happened, Snotlout,” Stoick groaned. He needed some mead soon for all this chaos.

“Alright alright, so me and Gustav were keeping watch and eating a can of beans. We relieved Ruff and Tuff of guard duty but they left the flamethrower they had been tinkering with there. I didn’t know it was a flamethrower. It didn’t look like a flamethrower at all.” Snotlout made wild movements and gestured to said weapon which Stoick had to begrudgingly admit did indeed not look like a flamethrower. “So anyway, here we were, in the doom and gloom of a zombie apocalypse minding our own business when a horde of zombies comes at us through the trees. Gustav rang the alarm while I started shooting at them, then-”

“Then?” Stoick gestured for Snotlout to continue.

“We ran out of bullets…..” Here Stoick facepalmed.

“So then I see the gun.” Snotlout gestured dramatically to said weapon on the table, much like a gameshow assistant would do, and then said. “I grabbed it and pulled the trigger.”

“Next thing I know I’m sent flying backwards because of the recoil, zombies are on fire, the camp is on fire, the trees are on fire…. I’M ON FIRE!”

“Gustav and I made a run for it and now here we are!” Snotlout stated as he looked at the former Chief. Stoick groaned because it was just like the twins to invent weapons of mass destruction, though it was much appreciated in an apocalypse, the twins had to learn to put up warning signs.

“You know what’s really bad Chief?” Snotlout asked. Stoick didn’t bother to correct him. 

“What?”

“Zombies are bad, zombies on fire are worse but at least they are slow. The worst part is running through town without noticing that it is rather breezy down there,” Snotlout stated as he pointed at his shorts where the back half was entirely burnt away and he had been literally mooning people in town.

  1. **Don’t forget the supplies**



It was spooky in the deserted Raven Point branch of Sven’s Viking Stores as the gang sneaked around rather loudly, shushing each other and looking for essential supplies. There had been a long discussion-with huge amounts of shouting-about what was actually counted as essentials. The boring people (Hiccup, Astrid, Fishlegs, Heather) were droning on about bags of rice, pasta, tinned goods, packet goods, spices, medical supplies...but Snotlout was certain he knew what was really important and when everyone stampeded unstealthily towards the ‘store cupboard’ section, he headed in a completely different direction…

Of course, the others would find out after he returned and they would all be snarky at his priorities but in any case, just because the world was ending didn’t mean that a man shouldn’t have his priorities sorted out. So he wandered alone down the toiletries aisle and stocked up on moisturizer, fake tan and ‘Lars’ Patented Tooth Whitening Toothpaste’ before he rounded the corner and entered the adjacent aisle. In all honesty, he could almost hear harps playing (though that could just be the twins messing around with the pantyhose) and he stumbled forward, almost in a daze as his trolley squeaked and travelled in a wobbly line as the one wonky wheel made it hard to steer. But his broad face lit with a smile as he gathered armful after armful of the most delightful and desirable supplies ever…

The gang regrouped in the deserted bakery section, each with a trolley groaning with goods. As expected, the twins had two trolleys on the brink of collapse with alcohol, crates of beer, litres of whiskey and mead and a couple of small bottles of Cointreau. Dagur had his trolley groaning with cans of beef, tuna, salmon, pork, pressed chicken, curried chicken, sardines, anchovies, dried kippers, various jerkies and crates of canned creamed spinach. The buff man looked up.

“Can’t maintain a healthy diet without plenty of protein,” he said, his green eyes glittering. Dagur was the most ripped man Snotlout had ever met (including himself) and spent any time he wasn’t with the group doing stomach crunches or press-ups or some other training to maintain his ‘battle readiness’. And he looked good in leather. Snotlout huffed.

“No burgers,” he muttered.

“Actually, Fishlegs has cans of burgers and hot dogs in his trolley,” Hiccup said, gesturing to the husky man with his pudding-bowl blond haircut, braided moustache and kindly eyes. “The rest of us got the dried rice and pasta, tomatoes, tinned vegetables, pulses, beans, spices, salt, pepper and medical supplies.” He glanced at his cousin and his face fell. “What did you get, Snot?”

“Toilet roll,” Snotlout said without shame.

“Toilet roll?”

_“Toilet roll?”_

“TOILET ROLL???”

“Why?” Heather asked. Dagur’s sister was Astrid’s best friend and Fishlegs’ girlfriend, a survivalist and completely no-nonsense. “Can’t you just use a banana leaf?”

Everyone stared.

“Um...this is Berk,” Hiccup pointed out kindly. “It snows nine months a year and hails the other three. I think Bjorn the farmer tried planting a banana plant once. It froze to death in three days. In the summer.”

“Ah.”

“Anyway, I’m not using a leaf,” Snotlout told him shortly. “I tried to use one before and it stung me all over my…”

“Too much information!!!” Astrid interrupted urgently, slamming her hands over her ears. The beautiful blonde’s face was screwed up, her eyes filled with horror and what Snot was implying. “And for the record, I never ever want to hear any details about your…”

“Nettles,” Snotlout said sulkily. “I showed them to Fishlegs and he said they were nettles.”

“How? Why?” Hiccup gabbled.

“Well...we ran out of toilet paper and the survival book said leaves worked so I tried them but they clearly didn’t work because pretty soon everything was on fire…”

“But why did you use nettles?” Astrid repeated, frowning. “I mean...nettles…”

“The book said leaves work!” Snotlout argued. “It didn’t say ‘leaves work except nettles’…”

“I bet it didn’t say ‘leaves except poison oak’ either but you didn’t use poison oak did you?” Heather asked him.

“Please say you didn’t use poison oak,” Fishlegs added urgently.

“But...nettles…” Astrid repeated, still stunned.

“Ha. I always knew Snotlout was a pain in the ass but…” Ruffnut commented and then collapsed laughing. 

“No es bueno!” her twin scolded her...before his face lit up. “Oh...wait...I see what you did there...HAHAHAHAHAHA …. _pain in the ass_ …oh, I am dying...”

“You will be if you carry on,” Snotlout growled. “That’s why I have 173 toilet rolls. All for me…” Hiccup folded his arms.

“Snotlout-we all went to gather supplies for the entire group, including those who stayed behind to guard the base,” he told his cousin sternly.

“And Gustav who we didn’t tell we were coming because bringing him and Snotlout both would be intolerable,” Fishlegs commented.

“The point is that we will share our food with you...and you have to share your toilet rolls with us in return…” Hiccup continued.

“And my hair gel and fake tan?” he protested. The others shared a look.

“I’m sure, given that the world is ending and zombies are roaming the earth, we can allow you to keep your hair gel,” Hiccup told him. Relieved, Snotlout sighed...and then he froze. For sitting on top of Hiccup’s trolley was a can of button mushrooms.

“Hey-you didn’t say you had mushrooms!” he said suddenly. Hiccup’s emerald eyes widened.

“There were a few cans left so we all grabbed as many as we…” he began.

“I love mushrooms! GIMME!” he snapped and snatched the can away. 

“They certainly don’t love you,” Fishlegs muttered. “Remember that mutton festival where they made mutton and mushroom casserole? That was nasty…” 

“I think they sent men in Biohazard suits…” Tuffnut mused, thinking hard. “And they used klaxons to evacuate the area…” But in the meantime, Snotlout had popped the top off the can and necked the lot, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Ah. Civilisation,” he smiled and then he frowned. A loud gurgle sounded.

“And so it begins…” Tuffnut said in a portentous voice. A louder rumble emanated from the stocky dragon rider as he clutched at his stomach.

“Ohhhhh…” he moaned. “I forgot…”

“You always forget!” Heather snapped. “This happens every six months. And then we have to draw lots over who has to clean the bathroom…”

“You made it, you clean it,” Ruffnut put in firmly. “I am not doing that again! Ever. I’d rather be eaten by zombies...”

“Nope…” Snotlout said, clutching his middle. “When you gotta go, you gotta go.” He grabbed a sixteen-pack of toilet paper. “Good thing I came prepared…” And then he sprinted off in the direction of the store bathrooms as everyone winced. Hiccup sighed and glanced over at Fishlegs.

“Maybe we should get some more toilet rolls...just in case,” he sighed and headed off for the aisle.

“But...nettles…” said Astrid.

-o0o-

  
  


  1. **A donkey is not a valid steed**



“HOOKFANG!” Snotlout shouted as the Monstrous Nightmare set its rider on fire for the umpteenth time that morning. The gang was watching in fascination as these two interacted. Even Toothless who was normally more into eating his basket of fish was intrigued by what was happening. The Nightfury warbled as Snotlout ran past and dived face first into a barrel of water that had been set aside for the Terrible Terrors to drink from.

The little dragons were less than enthused to share their water and started biting Snotlout in various places, including his ears, hair, nose, arm, etc.

“AAAAAAAAAH!! OUCHIE OUCHIE OUCHIE!” Snotlout shouted while flailing about.

“THAT IS IT!” Snotlout shouted once he was sure he wasn’t on fire anymore nor being bitten by small dragons. “HOOKFANG THAT IS IT! I’M GETTING A BETTER STEED!”

The gang watched Snotlout stomp away before looking back at Hookfang who lay there sunbathing, entirely unworried.

“Hiccup, what are the odds Snotlout burns down the village?” Astrid asked with a frown.

“Is that before or after the twins?” Hiccup asked back but Astrid shrugged. Both turned to Fishlegs who opened up a little leatherbound book where he kept all the bets written down. “Do you want the bets for today or for the entire week?” Fishlegs asked them as he held his charcoal ready.

The gang was still in the arena when Snotlout came back. He was tugging on a rope while grumbling “Come on!”

As Snotlout got closer, they saw that he had brought along a donkey. They all blinked, even the twins, but for different reasons. Fishlegs secretly did some calculations in his head, adjusting the odds of the bets while Astrid and Hiccup were both wondering if Snotlout lost his mind. The twins...they were thinking that riding a wild boar would have been faster and cooler. Hookfang looked at the donkey and probably thought ‘snack’.

“See! I found a better ride!” Snotlout bragged as he looked towards Hookfang, who merely rolled his eyes.

“Snotlout, don’t be an ass,” Astrid stated with her hands on her hips. “You already have one munching on your coat.”

“Oh I see what you did there, nice!” Hiccup smiled while Snotlout turned around to see that indeed the donkey was eating his fur coat.

“OYE!” Snotlout said as he yanked the coat away. The donkey did not look pleased though. The shorter man then turned towards the gang and said “You guys will see! Madonna here is the best steed there is!”

“Who names a donkey Madonna?” Ruffnut frowned while her brother interjected with “She looks more like a Matilda to me,”

Snotlout mounted the donkey with triumph and used the rope as the reins. “Well come on then!” he ordered but the donkey wasn’t having it and just stood there, not moving an inch.

“Come onnnnn!” Snotlout whined. “You’re making me look bad,” 

Still the donkey did not move. That was until Snotlout gave a sharp poke in its ribs with his heel. The donkey bayed and instead of moving, bucked and threw Snotlout off before using his hind legs to kick the man in the tush. Snotlout was sent sailing again and he once more landed in the water barrel belonging to the Terrors. They were not happy dragons.

Hookfang chuckled and went back to sunbathing while the gang started tending to their own dragons. This was going to be a long morning. 

  1. **When we talk about weapons, we don’t mean a whisk and three houseplants**



“Okay-we’re on patrol and we’ve been ambushed,” Astrid said briskly, peering through the lace curtains of Mrs Anderson’s parlour. “It’s only a small group...maybe four or five.” Then she glanced around the group. “Of course, it would help if you muttonheads hadn’t dropped your weapons when you caught sight of them, knocked me down and stampeded me like a herd of elephants, screamed like little girls and ran off like headless chickens, dragging me ‘to safety’ without my gun!”

“Wow,” Gustav said, his eyes dreamy as he stared at the irate blonde. “You’re amazing.” She snorted in disgust.

“You know, you just called me a muttonhead and a little girl and a headless chicken!” Snotout protested, sitting in a flower-printed armchair with crocheted cushions and a lace cloth over the headrest.

“And a herd of elephants. And I probably insulted muttonheads, small girls, elephants and even headless chickens,” she snapped. “I would tell you to go get our weapons but the Undead had already tripped over them and are shambling rather slowly towards the cottage.” Snotlout folded his arms and pouted.

“You’re really mean-you know that?” he grumbled.

“We’re in the middle of the Zombie Apocalypse and I can’t be nursemaiding you when you drop your weapons!” she snapped. “And what were you thinking dragging me along with you? I could have got my weapon-and yours-if you idiots hadn’t decided that I needed protecting. When in fact the person here doing all the protecting is me!”

“What about me?” Gustav asked hopefully. She pulled a face.

“You’re worse because you’re even more immature than he is!” she told him and rolled her eyes. “Now go find some weapons!” Both males leapt up, glaring at each other and started racing around. The kitchen had actually been picked almost clean-though Snotlout picked up a tin of mushrooms, just in case-while Gustav grabbed the cooking sherry. There were some chocolate biscuits-a bit stale but okay enough for them to munch through them while they slowly searched the drawers in hope of a nice revolver or something similar. There was a butter knife with a rather nice mother of pearl handle but nothing else-except a balloon whisk. Gustav eyed it hopefully as he ate the last biscuit.

“You can get a good swing on this,” he said, demonstrating. The other man looked up from the tea towel drawer.

“Mine! Gimme!” Snotlout demanded but the younger rider dodged back. 

“I saw it first,” he protested. 

“And which one of us is older?” Snotlout asked superiorly.

“In terms of mental age, I think we’re tying at about eleven,” Gustav shot back with rare insight. 

“Give me that whisk, you runt!” Snotlout growled.

“Any time!” Astrid shouted from the parlour as a heavy blow slammed through the door. “Seriously. Any time NOW!” Gustav ducked past Snotlout, almost knocking over two Lladro figurines that were crammed on an occasional table in the overcrowded hallway. Glancing around, Snotlout grabbed a handful of plants.

“We’re ready,” he said determinedly as the door crashed in. Gustav darted forward, wielding his whisk like a sword and just about managing to bat away the first zombie’s hands.

“I think you can have it!” he said in a panicked voice.

“Don’t want it!” Snotlout called, using twin cactuses to slash at the approaching undead. They were undeterred. Hopelessly, they backed away, lobbing china figurines, a small African Violet and a photograph of a rather ugly and very hairy woman at the advancing undead until Astrid emerged from the parlour.

“Oh for Thor’s sake!” she huffed and pulled out an axe.

“Where did you get that?” Snotlout asked in a panic.

“Woodshed while you were raiding the pantry!” she snapped and swung, the first swing decapitating the first zombie. Two further swings took down the next two and the last zombies tried to hang back but the blonde swung under a swipe and axed off the legs of the closest one, exposing the monster’s neck for a firm blow. The last zombie was kicked back against the wall and a final crunching blow severed its neck. She glared and waved the axe at them.

“I’m in love,” Gustav sighed. She slapped him upside the head. They all knew she had eyes for Hiccup and _only_ Hiccup but that hadn’t seemed to have stopped them hitting on her.

“Get our guns!” she snapped and twirled her axe. “And boys?”

They both looked at her resentfully. 

“This is a weapon. My gun is a weapon. An exploding grenade is a weapon. A sword is a weapon. A whisk and three houseplants are not weapons. Understand?”

“Yes, Astrid.”

  
  


  1. **Bathtubs are not sleds!**



“HICCUP…. HA….. HA…. HOW MUCH LONGER ARE WE GONNA….. HA HA….. RUN IN THIS DESERT?!” Astrid questioned as she was perspiring an awful lot. Fishlegs was flopping and the twins were also getting tired out. They were running through a former metropolis. A city that gave way to nature and now between the old metal ruins dunes of fine sand spread as far as the eye could see.

“We can rest as soon as we get clear of the cannibals!” Hiccup answered. Zombies were stupid and slow. Cannibals were a whole other ballpark. The gang had unwittingly stepped into their territory and now they had to flee before they became snacks, or in Snotlout and Fishlegs’ situation, dinner. Cannibalistic tribes had devolved from modern society when food was scarce and somehow they had thrived. All the gang needed to do was reach their dragons and they would be safe. Hiccup now cursed as he had the dragons stay on the outskirts. Some survivors had been skittish around them, others wanted to cook them.

“Have….. Hah… Have you guys seen…. Hah… Snot…” Fishlegs panted as he asked. Now that Hiccup thought about it, no they had not seen Snotlout since the last block.

“SNOTLOUT SNOTLOUT OI OI OI!” Could be heard as the gang suddenly looked towards one of the higher dunes. They could see a grimy thing in which Snotlout was seated and shouting. “You will never get me alive!” Snotlout shouted as he pushed off. The grimy thing, they now could identify as an old and chipped bathtub slid along the dune and past them, mowing down several cannibals. 

“YEEEHHAAAAAA!!!” Snotlout yelled as he slid past the gang, but then his expression changed and a look of horror crossed his face. Hiccup realized that Snotlout didn’t know how to stop.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” Snotlout yelled as he flew into the air after clearing another dune and then the tub turned over and he went straight down with it. The gang winced as they were closing in on him. There in the sand the old bathtub lay, broken and Snotlout’s feet were the only thing sticking up from the sand.

“Well...let’s never do that again,” Hiccup panted as they grabbed his ankles. “And that means you two!” The twins glared at him.

“Profiling is beneath you,” Tuffnut added with mock dignity. 

“And sledding is forbidden,” Astrid added. “Especially in bathtubs!”

  1. **Do not trust the twins to keep watch - it always turns out badly.**



_It was absolutely the worst part of being a leader,_ Hiccup mused as he patrolled the walls of the Base. He knew that fighting Zombies was pretty much the definition of the job, as was looking after the dragons and ensuring enough food and warmth for his people but it was dealing with said people that was giving him grey hairs.

His father had said as much when he unceremoniously handed leadership of the Base to Hiccup.

“Son-I have every confidence in you,” he had boomed, Seven feet high and four hundred pounds of muscle and sinew, topped by grey-streaked flaming red hair and equally grey-streaked flaming red braided beard, Stoick tended to tower over everyone and didn't do quiet. “But this is a new challenge and I know you are up to it.”

“Um-are you sure you don’t want to remain the Chief for this?” Hiccup had checked but Stoick had laughed, the sound booming off the walls of the stockade.

“Thor, no!” he said. “I’m looking forward to being a footsoldier and counsellor in this crisis. And then I don’t have to make the decisions, listen to the moaning, sort out guard duty...Gobber and I will just salute and then go off and drink some mead…possibly with your Mother though she can drink us under the table and out-armwrestle Spitelout with her wrong arm...” 

And that had been it. Of course, Hiccup had the most experience of dealing with the Riders and the A-Team but the older members tended to moan, whinge, bitch, complain, grumble and generally not be happy to do anything they were asked by their young leader. Which was in fact like almost half of his own team of friends. Snotlout, Gustav and the twins were the worst. Notwithstanding they were distractible, lazy and irresponsible, they turned up late for duty and performed it shoddily. If he didn’t have Astrid, Heather and Dagur at his side, he might have killed them by now but the temptation was often strong. Especially tonight, when the twins were on duty on the walls...and he couldn’t see any sign of the pair.

Though there was a lone zombie, shambling slowly down the main street in the Base, between the assigned lodgings for the inhabitants. Without hesitating, he drew out Inferno and fired an exploding Zippleback-filled shell into the undead monster, ducking down before it exploded. Then he growled in his throat and marched in the direction it had come from. How on MIdgard had it gotten in?

The answer was very simple: the main door to the stockade was open. 

He stared in utter shock and then, to double check he wasn’t hallucinating, he pinched himself. Hard.

“Ow. And what the Thor?” he muttered. Had there been an attack? Had they been infiltrated by traitors? An attack from another Tribe? Then he glanced up at the watch post and saw...as he suspected...it was empty.

“Ruffnut! Tuffnut!” he growled and then marched to the doors, slamming them shut and dropping the four bars into their cradles to reinforce the doors. Glancing around, he whistled and a dark shape came bounding from the shadows, stopping by him and crooning. Still seething with anger, Hiccup looked at his dragon.

“You seen ‘em, bud?” he asked, his voice sharp. The Night Fury gave an apologetic croon and Hiccup sighed. “AGH! Every time! I mean, just for once, it would be nice if they managed to act like an adult...or near-adult...but running off and leaving the gates open…?” Then he glanced at the dragon and gave a growl. In fact, he sounded so fierce that Toothless backed up a pace. Instantly, the young Viking was contrite. “Sorry, bud. I know it’s not your fault. But I need to get all the way to the top of the walls and fast!” Cocking his earflaps, Toothless gave a little warble as his friend leapt aboard and they launched up to the walkway just below the top of the wall by the guard post. Two flaps and they landed...as they saw two shapes hammering against the closed doors.

“What total muttonhead closed the doors?” Ruffnut yelled. 

“Why would you close the doors?” Tuffnut wailed.

“Maybe to keep the Undead out!” Hiccup called down, his voice sharp. They looked up.

“But we’re outside!” Tuffnut protested. 

“And why are you outside?” the auburn-haired rider asked him. Snotlout ambled along, eating a cheese scone.

“Those idiots are having a competition over who could shoot themselves out of the guard post the furthest,” the stocky young man offered. Hiccup groaned.

“And how would they do that?” he groaned.

“Well you know the super-strong straps we use for rescues and clambering over ravines…?” Snotlout asked. Hiccup face-palmed. 

“You mean the ones we’re trying to preserve because they’re really difficult to find?” he asked.

“Well, they made them into a giant catapult and have been shooting themselves into the marsh past the ‘three sisters’ pine trees…” Snotlout explained, settling into the guard chair. 

“And you know all this because…?” Hiccup checked. 

“They needed a referee!” Snotlout smiled lazily. 

“Um...there are some grey and green and drippy looking dudes coming rather close…” Tuff called. “A little help…?” Hiccup growled and handed one of the straps to Snotlout.

“Okay, Mr Referee-you pull Ruff up and Toothless will pull up Tuff,” he said, slinging both lines over the wall.

“But I’m not on guard!” Snotlout protested.

“You are now-and so are they,” HIccup snapped, feeling the tug on the line and motioning for the stocky man to start pulling. Toothless backwinged and Tuff rocketed up the wall, landing in a heap on the walkway. A few moments later, Ruff landed on top of him.

“OW! That was unnecessary!” Tuff yelled. “And I have splinters…” Then he glanced up to realise he was facing an annoyed Hiccup and an equally annoyed Toothless. “Not that it’s a bad thing…” he mumbled.

“What? We almost got eaten by the…” Then Ruff caught up with the situation. “Excitement of the situation…” she mumbled.

“You left the door open. I found a zombie inside the compound…” Hiccup began.

“But you found it,” Tuff pointed out. “The system works…” Then Ruff slapped her hand over his mouth.

“And I will have you on foot patrol outside the walls at night if I have one more instance like this!” Hiccup snapped. “As a punishment, Tuff-you’re on duty with Stoick. Ruff-you’re now partnered with Gobber. And Snotlout-you have my Mom.” The stocky man paled.

“That’s unfair! I didn’ leave anything open!” he protested. Hiccup glared.

“You three have the rest of the night on watch and I’m checking up on you randomly,” he snapped. “And guys-Ruff and Tuff are never going to be assigned to watch together again!”

  1. **A pinecone and a sling is an amazing weapon...... in the right hands**



“It’s a pinecone in a sling,” Snotlout pointed out while Astrid showed the gang the weapon she would be demonstrating today.

“Yes, Snotlout it is,” Astrid stated as she showed the others. “This is a weapon anyone can use. It can be just as deadly as any other projectile weapon. If we run out of bullets this may save our lives. Zombies are stupid, they don’t know how to dodge.” Here she looked at Snotlout specifically and he just knew she was referring to the forest fire a few months back.

“Still, it’s a pinecone and a sling. How deadly can it be?” Snotlout questioned and Astrid delivered the answer by using the makeshift weapon and launching the pinecone right at a test dummy made of straw. The pinecone took the head clear off.

“WOAH!” The twins goggled, amazed, and then looked down at their own basket of pinecones they had gathered. Gears began turning.

“That’s all great and good, Astrid, but none of us can aim like you,” Hiccup said and Snotlout vigorously nodded along. There was no way he could hit any target like that and absentmindedly he did admire Hiccup for being engaged to a woman that could decapitate a person with a pinecone if she was mad. In the words of their Viking ancestors, his cousin had balls.

“That’s why we practice!” Astrid had her hands on her hips and pointed towards the straw dummies. “Come on guys. Practice makes perfect!” Then she smiled at Hiccup and blew him a kiss. Snotlout saw his cousin turn red all the way to the back of his neck and the tips of his ears and he didn’t want to think of that implication.

As the group practiced, some surprises could be noticed. For once Snotlout wasn’t the worst at this, but neither was he the best. Fishlegs seemed to have great aim while the twins hit everything besides the training dummies. Snotlout and Hiccup were somewhere in the middle.

The pinecones in the basket were dwindling as they practiced. Snotlout picked up a particularly big one and placed it in the sling. He decided he should put an extra bit of strength into it and rotated the sling harder like he had seen Astrid do. However, the pinecone slipped out of the sling before he let go and sailed through the air in the opposite direction. The direction of the (former) Chief’s hut to be precise. 

It broke a window and then there was cursing. Very loud and angry cursing along the lines of “WHO IN THOR’S NAME SENT A PINECONE THROUGH MAH WINDOW AND INTO MAH MEAD! IF I GET MY HANDS ON THEM THEY’LL BE SHOVELING MANURE WITH MILDEW!”

It was safe to say that Snotlout and the others fled the scene.

**8: A soft play area is not a good base**

“Okay-what is this place?” Snotlout asked as they slammed the door. “And where is the lock on the door?” Heather, Astrid, Mala and Hiccup glanced at him.

“This is Auntie Phlegma’s Soft Play Longhouse!” he read from the sign above the reception desk. “Ah.”

“Ah?” Snotlout asked, looking around frantically for something to block the door.

“It’s a place young children are taken to play in safety,” Mala added. “We were looking at them when we were expecting little Glaive. Dagur actually checked this one out before I went into labour...and then, a couple of months after, the zombies landed…”

“So are there any weapons here?” Snotlout asked hopefully.

“In a building for very young children?” Astrid asked him.

“Hey-you taught me to try to look for weapons,” he protested. 

“Not a sausage,” Heather reported. “Even the cutlery in the kitchenette is plastic!”

“This place is full of foam and foam balls,” Heather added. “Not really defensible.” There was a crash and the door slammed open. 

“It’s nice and warm,” Snotlout protested, gesturing as he backed away. “Can’t we try to stay here?”

“And do what?” Hiccup asked, backing away and fumbling for his gun. “Hide in the climbing frames? Sneak along the slide? Duck down in the ball pit?”

“We can’t even lock the door,” Astrid protested, crouching behind the reception desk. “Well-obviously not now it’s lying on the floor in pieces. Oh look-candy!”

“What? GIMME!” Snotlout yelped and dived over the desk to stuff his pockets with candy from the stash the blonde had found. Astrid rolled her eyes as Hiccup eyed the ball pit. He was frowning. 

“Cover me!” he called and sprinted to the plastic wall, deftly unhooking the pieces and unleashing a tsunami of foam balls. The zombies shambling into the space immediately began to fall over the squishy foam. For a second, everyone was so surprised that they even forgot to shoot the undead. Eventually, Astrid grabbed Snotlout and hauled him away while Heather, Mala and Hiccup headed for the back door. Finally arriving in the deserted car park out back, they managed to block the door with a dumpster and then stopped to catch their breath before they headed back up to Raven Point.

“Well, that was fun,” Heather commented, breathing heavily. 

“I think...soft play may be overrated,” Hiccup replied. Snotlout looked up, adjusting the contents of his bulging pockets.

“I don’t know,” he said. “There are six other soft play places in Berk. They seem to be full of warmth and candy…”

“And foam balls,” Astrid grumbled. Snotlout ignored her.

“Maybe one of them would make a nicer base than that cold uncomfortable Base we have up on Raven Point…” he continued. “Lots of candy too…” Hiccup rolled his eyes.

“That candy is over a year old,” he pointed out as the rider continued to stuff his face. 

“Not that he cares,” Heather put in, pulling a face.

“But…” Snotlout mumbled, elderly chocolate smeared round his mouth. Hiccup folded his arms.

“And no, Snotlout-soft play areas don’t make a good base!”

  1. **Moats are both an advantage and disadvantage**



“NO!” Snotlout said firmly as he crossed his arms and glared at his cousin.

“Snotlout,” Hiccup groaned.

“I said NO! There is no way I am going anywhere near a moat!”

“It’s not so bad…. The moat helps. The zombies aren’t clawing through the fences anymore,” his cousin retorted.

“I am still not going near no moat!” Snotlout stomped his foot and glared at Hiccup. He then grumbled “Let’s build a moat, they said. It will be safe, they said. Certainly not safe for me.”

“Snotlout you are overreacting,” Hiccup sighed. “Dad only asked you if you could help clean it. Astrid will guard you. You know she’s a crack shot.”

“No I am not overreacting!” Snotlout grumbled. “Everytime I go near a moat I end up in it.”

“No you don’t!” Hiccup shot back.

“Hysteria….”

“That was one time and Heather was trying to kill you then,” Hiccup shot back.

“The Bog,” Snotlout then challenged him.

“Cami was trying to kill you then,” Hiccup stated. “Honestly you had that one coming to you.”

“The Meatheads in New York?!” Snotlout raised an eyebrow as he recalled that little adventure.

“That wasn’t so much a moat as an artificial lagoon.” Hiccup muttered.

“The Outcasts……..”

“Okay, now you’re reaching. That thing was a pitfall not a moat. Moats don’t have spears, underwater,” Hiccup explained and then got to thinking. “Although...maybe we should try that here.”

“Ah Hell no!” Snotlout gestured with his arms and then turned around to walk away. “You can tell Uncle Stoick that he should ask Eret to clean the moat. The gators seem to like him!” 

But Snotlout had barely taken a few steps when there was a splash. Hiccup watched incredulously his cousin stepped off the wooden makeshift bridge they had been on and dropped head first into the water. The gators instantly took notice and Snotlout scrambled out of the moat, all the while yelling “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” as gators snapped at him.

“I’m not filling in the moat,” Hiccup muttered as he watched his cousin squelch angrily back into the Base. “But I may issue Snot with water wings…”

  1. **Leather underwear and thongs are not appropriate Apocalypse wear.**



The gang had been on a scouting mission and had run into some trouble. They had been running all day and climbing the hill-covered terrain to finally find a cave to lay low for the night. The twins had been hunting and caught a rabbit and some squirrels. It wasn’t much but it would do for the night. Astrid was unpacking the utensils from Fishlegs’s pack while Hiccup got a fire going and took out a few extra rations from their packs. Meanwhile Snotlout and Fishlegs stood guard.

When dinner came, a meaty stew, courtesy of Hiccup-because even in a zombie apocalypse no one was crazy enough to let Astrid cook. The world was already ending. No need to make it worse.

Everyone came to sit around the fire and then Astrid and the others noticed Snotlout limping.

“Did you pull a muscle?” Hiccup asked as he watched his cousin wince as he sat down on the ground near the fire.

“No, it’s my underwear,” Snotlout answered and that got him some awkward looks from the others.

“Don’t tell me you tried fixing your boxers with leather patches again?” Ruffnut asked incredulously.

“NO! Thor NO!” Snotlout answered. “I learnt that lesson from last time. The chafing was hell!” And boy had that been an awkward few days of walking weirdly.

“I’m almost afraid to ask but what is it now?” Astrid muttered.

“You know when we went to Sven’s to get rations?” Snotlout muttered and squirmed. “I kinda...sorta...took some thong underwear...”

“WHAT?!” the gang exclaimed and Snotlout winced.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Not the best idea...” Snotlout groaned as he shifted again.

“OOOH!” Hiccup realized what had happened. During their climbing the thong had...ridden up.

Snotlout was blushing scarlet now as everyone came to the same conclusion.

“Well...courtesy of Snottykins there...at least we know thongs are not appropriate apocalypse wear now,” Tuffnut stated which caused everyone to groan. 

“And can nobody mention the words Snotlout and Thong in the same sentence ever again,” Astrid added. “It’s the apocalypse. It doesn’t need to be made worse.”

**The End**

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> AN2: (featuring a drunk Harry and Vala)
> 
> Vala: “Let it gooooo, Let it goooooo!”  
> Harry: “NOOOOOOOO!”  
> Vala: “Can’t hold you back anymore! Let it gooooo, Let it gooooo,”  
> Harry: “OMG you are a singing drunk!”  
> Vala: “Turn my back and slam the door!”  
> Harry: “AGH! Hell no!” (Chucks drunk/unconscious Porg at Vala) “Go back to being a Porgicidal maniac!”  
> Vala: “IUYTRFFGHJIKOLKJHG”  
> (Porg meeps)


End file.
